


Atypical Days

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-15
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the most unexpected and less dramatic thing that has happened to her in a while. (Set post-season 3, alternate canon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atypical Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The International Day of Femslash. Many thanks to Happywriter06 for the beta.

There is someone with her in the bed, the first comfortable and comforting one she’s slept in for a while. Sara can tell; even with her eyes still closed, she can feel it. A warm presence next to her and calm, even breathing. No reason to worry, she somehow knows that it’s safe and secure in here, so she allows herself a few more seconds before she opens her eyes. When she does, blue eyes trained on her, full lips half smiling and blonde hair spread across the pillow slowly come into focus. Jane, whoever Jane may actually be – the name has popped into her mind from hazy reminiscences. So _Jane_ is watching her, her expression quiet and patient yet enquiring. Like expecting or waiting for something. Sara blinks against the light, against the weird sight, against her fuzzy memory.

There were cars and guns, running and escaping, last night. And Jane. She remembers that she wasn’t hurt when Jane pulled her inside of the car and sped away. Jane was though. Nothing major, nothing requiring full medical attention. She let Sara take care of her, not because she needed to be doctored but because Sara needed to doctor. Needed to be an actor rather than a subject of the events. So she let Sara clean and dress the wound, while explaining who she was, what she’s been doing and how she could help her – how they could help each other. Sara has grown quite cautious during the last few weeks and the woman had to volunteer a few things about LJ to prove herself and convince Sara that she was to be trusted.

Then, right in the middle of her nursing, her hands started to shake. She bit back sniffles as the tension subsided and she realized that she was safe. She felt dumb for reacting like that and said so. Jane shrugged and held her, a bit awkward at first. She grumbled something about being dumb for feeling dumb, given the circumstances. She rocked her into calm, patted her hair, drew small soothing circles on her back. Cradled her head, kissed her temple, her cheek, her...

Sara blinks again.

Jane is visibly naked under the sheets, a smooth, creamy shoulder poking out. So is Sara. Very naked, both of them. Not a t-shirt, not a bra, not even panties as far as Sara is concerned. Even in her current state, she can do the math.

 _Fuck_.

Events start to come back to her mind and they’re a succession of quick but so vivid images. Blue eyes boring into hers. Full lips kissing her face and then licking their way down, slow and thorough and with just a hint of teasing. Blonde hair spilled all over her stomach and thighs. Soft, soft skin beneath her hands and mouth. Hips canting up under her caresses. Fingers pleadingly gripping her shoulders and digging into her hair. The feel, sounds and tastes were oddly alien and familiar at the same time. She remembers how kind and comforting Jane’s touch was, her hands delicately sliding and stroking and squeezing, how she chuckled when Sara shoved her on her back and pinned her to the mattress, gentle and eager. Then not laughing anymore, she wrapped her legs around Sara, arched her back and closed her eyes. Sara’s pretty sure that one of them babbled and moaned when she came, that the other one cursed and thrashed. She would say that she was the one who babbled and moaned because she’s not the cursing kind. But she’s not supposed to be the sleeping-with-a-woman kind either, especially if she barely knows said woman, so she won’t take that at face value.

When she crawled up, looming over Jane on her hands and knees, the other woman tugged her down and engulfed her in a silky embrace. Pushed long strands of hair to the side of their faces and kissed her sweetly. They shuddered and bucked a few times from the aftershocks of their release, spent muscles and moist skin pressed flush against similarly spent muscles and moist skin. Sara remembers that she hugged and kissed back before she finally relaxed and became limp in Jane’s arms. She really hopes that she didn’t fall asleep on her, that Jane didn’t have to put up with her weight or roll her over. _That_ would be embarrassing, that and some of the things she blurted out – memories kicking in, it looks like she indeed was the moaning one.

They’re now lying face to face, only a few inches between them, heat and scents still mingling. Neither of them dares move or maybe, Sara realizes after a while, neither of them feels like moving. She ponders that they must offer quite a sight, stretched out in mirroring positions, merely covered by the white sheets, equally tousled and, if Jane’s face is any indication, grayish circles under their eyes.

“Um, so...,” Jane starts. “Not the kind of thing I do on a regular basis.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief, conveying that it may or may not have been a good idea but that in both cases, she definitely won’t make a fuss about it. “I mean, having sex with someone I just rescued.”

“You didn’t really _rescue_ me.”

“Yeah, right,” Jane snorts sarcastically.

Sara tries to move and discovers that her body aches terribly in some places, way more pleasantly in others. She decides it’s better to temporarily lie back and she folds an arm under cheek, settling comfortably. Jane rolls her shoulders as if she’s trying to work out some stiffness here. The movement makes slide a few locks, baring the delicate jointure between her neck and shoulder, and Sara can see some blotch, a blue-red imprint of teeth that blemishes the fair skin.

She gave her a hickey. She chortles at that. Then she chortles at herself for being naked in bed with a woman, at the knife in the back pocket of her jeans – the jeans that were carelessly, hastily thrown to the floor, not folded on the back of a chair – at the unremarkable safe house, at the distance from everything that used to be her life. At some point, one can’t do anything but take a break and appreciate the absurdity of the situation. The chortle becomes a full laugh when the other woman frowns, worsening, erupting into a fit of giggles as Jane sits on the bed and glances quizzically at her. There is an edge of hysteria in her amusement, and Jane asks, concern showing in her tone, “You all right?”

She nods. She’s just fine, as fine as she can be. Having sex with a woman – damn, having casual sex, period – is not the kind of thing she does on a regular basis either. Any typical day, she would’ve appropriately freaked out, mulled over and weighed the consequences and implications and... It looks like she’s quickly becoming the cursing kind too because she thinks again _fuck_ , this time around in a totally different state of mind. She hasn’t had a ‘typical day’ for weeks – scratch that, for months.

“This is the most unexpected and less dramatic thing that has happened to me in a while. It was good.” She pauses and feels her face flush a bit. Jane smirks. Well, it _was_ good, in a weird and unusual way, but good. And by the way, no matter her smirking, Jane doesn’t contest that. “It was sweet. I don’t regret it but I don’t want to do it again.”

It was good and sweet and a nice reprieve from the craziness that has been her life for the past few months. It’s just it’s another unpredictable event in an already messy situation. She’s pretty sure it applies to Jane too, who survived her own little hell. There is no way she lets it happen again, but she _will_ embrace and treasure it. She beams at the woman, which has to be her first real grin since what feels like forever.

“Is that fine with you?” she asks because right now, although she has every right to say it was a ‘one time thing’, if anything else matters, it’s Jane’s stance.

Jane smiles back and gently pushes her out of the bed. There’s understanding, acceptance and a weird affection on her face. Maybe also a hint of relief at Sara’s blunt and candid attitude.

“Move it. We have an appointment and can’t afford to be late.”

-End-


End file.
